


Woops

by spectrekinq



Category: PAYDAY (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Sex, Face Punching, M/M, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 18:21:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15443043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spectrekinq/pseuds/spectrekinq
Summary: Sokol notices there's no souls lingering in Jacket's room, deciding to make his pounce.





	Woops

Footsteps clunked against the metallic steps leading down towards the basement, a bag's thin straps heaved over the Russian male's shoulder. It contained the usual hockey equipment and his uniform, the sweat clinging to Sokol's glistening body. Placing the holdall down by his make shift rink, he wiped the moisture from his forehead with an arm, a cool shower sounding more than ideal.

His earphones emitted the sound of a pop track being played, presumably a Slavic one. Occasionally, his eyes would shift towards the small area Jacket had set up as a living space, noticing no one seemed to be stirring. The music drowned out any possible chance of background noise hitting Sokol's ear drums, fully unaware of the activities taking place within the room.

A devious smile crossed his pair of lips, many thoughts beginning to run through his head. If Jacket was absent, that meant Sokol had access to the many tapes the other had laying around on that coffee table. They continued to eat away at his mind until he eventually pushed himself up onto his feet, just wanting to get those hands on those cassettes. He hauled his duffle bag over his arm, his legs guiding him towards Jacket's enclosed space.

It was like Jimmy's life had flashed between his eyes inside of that room, recounting each second the balled fist connected itself with his face, leaving its mark on the flesh. The silence had almost been deafening, a hand slowly creeping up towards the bridge of his nose, soon recognising the scent of copper edging its way past his left nostril.  
Broken.

Viridescent eyes trailed up to the figure hovering above him, the combination of narcotic and alcohol numbing the eventual pain that would be followed later. Each thrusts were rough yet rhythmic, Jimmy's harsh breaths being caught up in his throat. Jacket's face was tucked in within the crook of the male's neck, able to feel his partner's hot breath exhale against his own flesh.

Those vibrant hues had looked around each nook and cranny of the room as the Russian had prowled in undetected, eyes eventually resting upon a pair of two labeled tapes placed next to Jacket's dictaphone. His heart had thudded at an uneven pace per second inside of his chest, those sweat slicked fingers wrapping around the one with 'Heist' scribbled on it on a piece of duct tape with black marker.

Jacket's fingers gripped firmly onto Jimmy's inner thighs to keep them pried apart, diving harder into the heated area. He was able to feel the form underneath him tremble whenever he experienced a jolt of electricity run through his body, his enamel clamping down on his partner's bottom lip, tugging on it briefly.

"Shit... Jacket. Mnn, you're so fuckin' good, baby."

A playful grin had spread from brim to brim, the sight of dark crimson oozing towards the top layer of his lip. His arms hooked around his associate's nape, bodies sure to be aching afterwards after the conspicuous amount of time spent making love on Jacket's flooring. Digits began to run themselves through each lock belonging to the man's head, letting out a brief curse at Jacket's cock slamming abruptly against his prostrate.

Sergei clutched the cassette tapes, wanting to put them away inside of his holdall. His palm grasped onto his blue iPod he normally kept tucked inside of his red jersey, the sound of a melody drifting away into the distance as the song came to an end. The sudden cries torn brutally from Jimmy's throat prompted him to curse out loudly in Russian, almost dropping his iPod along with the pair of earphones, the tapes cluttering with a thud against the black and white tiles.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

His heart had been ready to leap out of his chest at any moment now, just feeling how tense his body had become. It was there, out of the corner of his own eyes, where the scene began to unravel in front of Sokol, that Jacket had held the slim form close to his own body, feeling his orgasm begin to take its course. His breathing was hoarse, filling the condom covering his cock, his hold on Jimmy beginning to loosen.

The Russian quickly gathered up the sack with a uncomfortably heated face, shuffling out of the room before Jacket could even be made aware of his presence inside of it. It took perhaps a few more jerks before he eventually pulled out of his quivering lover, examining his fanciable frame.

Sokol never spoke a word of what he witnessed in that room, and that was probably for the best.


End file.
